


With Lust in His Heart

by San



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: M/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-04
Updated: 2011-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-17 14:27:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/San/pseuds/San
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two devils meet in a Los Angeles nightclub.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Lust in His Heart

Nick allowed his gaze to drift around the crowd, feigning unconcern as he tried to figure out just how bored he was.

He caught Simon out of the corner of his eye, his head already buried deep in the bountiful cleavage of a tarted-up blonde who looked like she might be old enough to be Simon's mother beneath all her makeup. Not that Simon would care, since she met his criteria for a good lay: thin body, large boobs. Nick looked away, bringing his shot of vodka up and downing it in one quick swallow.

"Benjamin Franklin said that it's best to lay older women, anyway, since they're so _grateful_."

Nick jumped, slightly, then turned to face the speaker. His irritation at being startled faded, though he still folded his arms before he spoke.

"Have we been introduced?" The pale, almost silver-blue eyes meeting his gaze did seem familiar, somehow, though the rest of the face triggered no memory. Nick absently rolled the shot glass through his fingers.

"I beg your pardon," the man said, settling on the stool next to Nick's. "I'm afraid I misjudged you based on your friends' behaviour."

Nick rolled his eyes. "I see. So we've not been introduced, and you're in the habit of jumping to conclusions about people."

"And you're touchy tonight. I forgive you."

Setting his glass firmly on the bar, Nick felt the muscles in his back tense up.

"I don't recall asking you for anything but an introduction." The words burned his throat, and still he found himself reluctant to turn away.

"You _are_ bored, aren't you. All right. You can call me Luc."

"Loose?" Nick felt one eyebrow raise despite himself. His companion's generous mouth spread into a lopsided smile, raising half-expected heat in Nick's groin.

"No, Luc. L-U-C," he spelled, tracing the letters in spilled alcohol on the bar top. The letters seemed to catch a fiery light from somewhere. Nick chalked the effect up to the alcohol in his own system.

"French, then?"

"Perhaps. Does it matter?"

"It might. Maybe I've the proper British disdain for all things French."

Luc waved his hand dismissively. "You were raised properly, but you don't strike me as a man to hold to stereotypes."

"As opposed to you? Or perhaps you simply like to generalize." Nick looked back out across the room, keeping Luc in his peripheral vision. His caution was rewarded when Luc failed to startle him by setting his hand upon Nick's shoulder.

"I made a mistake. My apologies."

Rather than brushing the hand away, Nick looked back up into Luc's face. He matched the vaguely acquisitive look he found there with one of his own.

Luc finally leaned in, his forehead nearly touching the stiff mass of Nick's bangs.

"Your press paints you as unremittingly straight."

"My press is written by a group of people who don't recognize that there are shades of gray," Nick answered, easily. "One, in their eyes, is either completely heterosexual or completely homosexual."

"And you?"

"Surely you have somewhere more private we can discuss this."

"You'd trust me enough to go home with me?" One of Luc's pale eyebrows raised slightly.

Nick sighed. "It's not so much about trust, unfortunately, as it is about avoiding the girls who have undoubtedly gathered in a great group around the front of both this club and my hotel."

"Ah. Well, you do have a famous face."

Caught speechless for a moment, Nick stared at Luc and then laughed.

"It has its ups and downs."

"Believe me, I know." Luc sighed, and for just a moment Nick saw sadness darken the strong features of his face.

"I _do_ recognize you from somewhere, then," he asked, the proximity of their faces allowing him to speak softly.

The shadow passed, and Luc smiled at him. "Possibly. As it happens, I don't have a home to go to, but have taken a small hotel room that will serve, as it pleases you."

"Speaking of trust?" Nick gestured toward the door of the club. Despite the fact that he'd not seen John since they walked in, he still managed to both spot him and catch his eye as he slid off the bar stool.

Luc followed him, standing so closely behind him that Nick felt his body heat and heard a soft chuckle. "I didn't mean it like that," he purred, bending to speak in Nick's ear, "but if that's how you _want_ to play..."

Nick reached up and patted his cheek. "We'll talk. Right now, we need to get me out of here without being seen." He handed over his ticket and retrieved his coat from the checker, shivering slightly as Luc's cool hand slid along the back of his arm.

"You're the expert," Luc answered, pulling a long black opera cloak over the counter. "What do you suggest?"

Nick raised an eyebrow. "You could probably smuggle me out in that."

Luc looked at the cloak for a moment with a tiny frown, then chuckled and shook his head. "I suppose it isn't very appropriate for tonight, but it was what I had with me." He swung it around his shoulders and fastened the clasp at his throat. Nick studied him for a moment.

"What?"

"Nothing." The tip of Nick's tongue brushed his upper lip. "Nothing at all. It suits you."

Nick suppressed a startled and undignified squawk as Luc suddenly wrapped him in folds of velvet supported by the cables of his arms. For just a moment he felt as though he were falling into darkness; the cloak smelled spicy and smoky all at once, and Luc's body was hot against his.

"It might work to smuggle you out at that." Luc's voice came from above him, and Nick laughed at his sudden discomfort. "Shall we try?"

"Why not," Nick answered, reaching behind him to tug Luc's shirt out of his pants. "Although it's bloody stifling in here."

"Let's be quick about it, then."

\-------------------------

They were both considerably more disheveled when they exited from the taxi that Luc had summoned in front of the club; Nick caught his reflection in a large mirror in the lobby and his fingers automatically came up fix his face.

"Vanity is a sin, you know," Luc murmured in his ear. Nick rolled his eyes.

"So is what we're about to do. God's a childish superstition anyway. I'd rather not look like Robert Smith."

Luc caught his elbow and dragged him into the elevator. "You look perfect."

Nick broke the kiss as the doors opened and briefly leaned his head against Luc's half-bare chest. The heat of their bodies was already throbbing beneath his skin, the vodka burned off with the first lingering kiss in the cab.

Luc drew them down the hall; the door opened under his touch and Nick stood in the hall for a moment, staring at the lush appointments inside.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all. I just expected..."

"Something a bit more motel-like?" Luc brushed his lips along the top of Nick's ear. "I prefer to stay in style."

"I see that." Nick stepped into the room, sinking into the carpet. Luc had him in his arms almost before the door was closed. Nick shut his eyes for a moment, breathing in his scent as he turned and slid his hands up Luc's chest, deft fingers finding and tweaking a hard nipple.

"Nick," Luc sighed, lifting his chin. Nick opened his eyes and met the gaze, surprised to hear guilt in Luc's voice. "You should know who I am--"

"Why?" Nick lowered his gaze slightly and caught Luc's face in his hands, pulling until their noses brushed. "Are you going to arrest me or otherwise foul my career?"

"No. But there are those who may think I've influenced it."

Nick's laugh was deep, rich and throaty. "Please." He placed a gentle kiss on Luc's lips. "John and I have both been accused of making a deal with the devil for the kind of success we're enjoying. Which is patently ridiculous, of  
course."

Luc murmured, "Of course," but looked slightly startled before Nick claimed his mouth for a deeper kiss, trying to decide just what Luc tasted like.

"Everyone gets lonely. So, tonight I'm just Nick and you?re just Luc, and it's about nothing but this."

Nick's lips curled in a wicked smile at Luc's gasp as his hand slid inside Luc's pants. Luc's next kiss was bruisingly strong, and he startled Nick by sweeping him up and carrying him to bed.

Scant seconds passed before they were bare; Nick luxuriated in the silky feel of the cover beneath him and the satiny feel of Luc's skin. There was no wrestling for control -- neither of them had the patience for it. Nick wrapped his legs around Luc's hips and sucked hard at Luc's shoulder. Luc sank into him, and he groaned. His fingertips dug into Luc's back, slipping over old scar tissue on his shoulderblades, as Luc hesitated.

"No -- don't stop."

Luc growled something incoherent and thrust against him harder, his lips crushing Nick's, his hands pulling at Nick's shoulders. Nick nipped along his chin and collarbone, then tipped his head back with a sharp cry. Luc shuddered against him, and they collapsed into a tangle of limbs.

They lay there for a few minutes, breathing hard. Luc finally disengaged, and reached beneath Nick to slide the damp comforter off the bed.

"I should go," Nick said, sleepily.

"No," Luc answered, dumping it on the floor. "Stay."

"I have a flight in the morning."

Luc smiled, and brushed his lips across Nick?s temple. "Stay the night, and I promise you'll make your flight in the morning." His fingers gently cradled Nick's balls, and Nick curled closer, reaching up for another spicy, smoky kiss.

\----------

"Nick." Snapping fingers. "Are you in there?"

"Sod off, John." Nick waved irritably at the long fingers in front of his face.

"Oh, good. You've been acting remarkably like a zombie this morning."

Nick yawned and looked around, trying not to act surprised that they were sitting in the airport V.I.P. lounge. "What time is it?"

"Ten-thirty."

He snorted. "Of course I've been out of it, Johnny. It's not noon yet."

John laughed, handing him a Mimosa. "Yeah, yeah. More zombie-like than usual, then. Simon had to practically carry you around -- good thing Koren was around to load you up." He wiggled his eyebrows in a manner that Nick knew would have had fans dropping to their knees. "Good night last night?"

"What? You couldn't get any of your own last night so you need to live vicariously through me?" John slugged his shoulder, and Nick winced. "Ow."

"Okay, we'll chalk cranky and spacey up to a rough night, then."

Nick sighed and leaned back in the booth, taking a sip of the drink and letting the conversation of the rest of the band ebb and flow around him.


End file.
